GRIMM: Beyla's Story
by emilythesmelly
Summary: Grimm OC; don't like, don't read. Portland's mortician finds herself mixed up in the hidden world of the Grimms. Eventually Monroe/OC. Eventually Roddy/OC.
1. Chapter 1

I sat around, waiting for Ewan to finish his rounds. I always hated hospitals; the morgue was much more comforting. Ewan interpreted this to be a fear of someone dying on my watch. In the morgue, everyone was already dead.  
Looking over to my right I saw Nick's comatose aunt laying in her bed. The poor woman had cancer and had been attacked twice. My brows furrowed when I saw a familiar man pacing in her room. It was Eddie Monroe, our first suspect for our Howell kidnapping. I nonchalantly took out my cell phone and dialed Nick. The phone rang a few times and I finally heard, "Hello?"  
"Hey, Nick," I replied, keeping my eye on Monroe. "Umm, you know that guy, Monroe Monroe? You, umm, tackled him an accused him of kidnapping a little girl?"  
"Yeah, why?" he replied, sounding fairly preoccupied.  
"Well, he's in your aunt's room, pacing around like a lunatic," I told him, watching the procession with interest.  
"Yeah, I know," he replied nonchalantly. "I asked him to watch her. Is anything wrong?"  
"No, they're both fine," I replied with a shrug. "I was just making sure that he wasn't, like, here to get his revenge on you by killing your aunt."  
"Umm, if he does look like he's going to kill her, I'd appreciate you stopping, but I trust him."  
"Alright. Bye, Nick," I said with a shake of my head. I got up and went into Marie's room. "Hi."  
Monroe jumped and turned around to look at me. "It's not what it looks like," he said hastily.  
"I already talked to Nick," I told him, my hands up as to indicate my unwillingness to fight. "Tell me," I started, sitting down in the chair in the corner of the room, "how does one go about befriending the man who tries to arrest him?"  
His brows furrowed. "It's complicated, okay?"  
"Oh, I'm sure," I said with my arms crossed. "It just seems weird to me. I guess that's why Nick's the detective, though. His profiling skills obviously see something about this that isn't weird."  
"I guess so," he replied. What a sassy bastard.  
A head popped in the room and said, "Beyla?"  
"Ewan," I responded, springing up from my seat.  
"What are you doing in here?" he asked, looking at the comatose woman and unfamiliar man.  
"Just checking on Nick's aunt; I know he's been really worried about her. I wanted to make sure she was okay," I lied. The whole "Nick/Monroe" thing was too much to explain, so I left it out.  
"Alright," he answered with a shrug. Ushering me out of the room, he said, "Let's go; I'm starving."  
"Bye," I said, giving Monroe one last meaningful glance so that he wouldn't do anything stupid. He nodded awkwardly.

I was making a charcoal portrait of my brother Ezhno, when the doorbell rang. I wiped my sooty hands on my already blackening apron. I carefully opened the door, trying to get as little charcoal on it as possible. To my surprise, Monroe was standing on my stoop. "What are you doing here and how do you know where I live?" I asked a bit more aggressively than I'd meant to.  
"Hey, I would have preferred not coming," he replied. "Nick was busy, though, so he gave me your address." He held out my phone. "You left it at the hospital."  
I sighed and took it back. "Thank you," I said. I sighed in defeat. "Come on in. Do you want a beer?"  
His brows furrowed. "What?"  
"As the homeowner, I'm obligated to offer you a drink," I explained, opening the door wide enough for Monroe to come in.  
He shrugged and entered. "Thanks."  
"Kitchen is that way," I said, pointing down the hall. We walked back and Monroe sat down at the island. He looked around as I washed the charcoal off of my hands. His eyes fell on Ezhno's portrait.  
"You're an artist?" he said with surprise.  
"Yep," I replied as I dried my hands on a dishtowel. I walked over to the fridge. "That's going to be my brother's birthday present. Which one do you want?" I held up two different bottles of beer. He pointed to one and I opened them both up.  
"Thanks," he said, taking a swig.  
"No problem," I replied, leaning up against the island. I continued to look at my work in progress. "He's always talking about how he loves my art so I figured I'd make him a portrait. I always loved that picture of him," I rambled, motioning to my reference picture.  
"I'm impressed. I can see the likeness," he commended.  
"Thanks. Maybe someday I'll draw you," I said with a laugh.  
"Really?"  
"No." I laughed more and he scoffed, shaking his head. "So, Monroe, tell me about yourself. What do you do, other than not abducting little girls, aunt-sitting, and returning lost phones?"  
He rolled his eyes. "I'm a clock-maker. I make clocks and I do Pilates," he admitted and I laughed more.  
"I don't think I could have called that," I replied, still chuckling.  
"And a forensic scientist/artist is normal?" he rebutted.  
"Speaking of," I started, leaning toward him. "You look like you've been punched in the face. Tell me, how often does a Pilate-ing clock-maker get into fist fights?"  
He jerked his head away from my curious fingers. "I didn't get into a fight," he lied.  
"I hope you at least kicked some ass after you got socked," I said, bringing my face closer still to him.  
"Why don't you look at your own face?" he suggested sassily.  
"What's that supposed to mea- oh _shit_!" I jumped up and ran into the bathroom. Charcoal was all over my face. "Why the fuck wouldn't you tell me that before?" I called into the other room.  
"I figured you knew," he called back. I heard him get up and he came to stand in the bathroom doorway. "It was a lot of charcoal."  
"Shut up," I replied, scrubbing my face. "Why does Nick even keep you around?"  
"I was just about to ask you the same question," he replied.  
I scoffed. "Why did you even accept my offer? It was totally in your rights to refuse the beverage obligation."  
"I honestly don't know."  
"Well, you're free to leave any time."  
"Maybe I'll stay, just because it's bothering you so much."  
I wiped my face off aggressively. Something about this guy was really getting under my skin. "You do know that I know police officers, right?"  
That was all I needed. "I'm leaving – calm down." He took his newly emptied bottle of beer and walked himself to the door. "Thanks for the beer, Beyla."  
"Get out of here, Monroe," I called from the hallway. He waved sarcastically and walked out the door. _What the Hell, man,_ I thought to myself. I shook my head and returned to the kitchen, ready to resume my portrait. Then I saw it; Monroe's phone rested on my counter. Just as I realized it, I heard a car pull out of my driveway. _Shit._


	2. Chapter 2

I knocked loudly on the door. After a lot of rustling inside, Monroe answered. "That was cute," I said sarcastically, holding up his phone.  
"Heh," he said, taking the phone from me. "I was wondering where I left that."  
"Where you 'forgot' it?" I corrected, making air quotes. Air quotes were annoying as fuck. "You just wanted to see me again. It's a little creepy, I admit. Now that I'm here, though, you should probably invite me in for a drink."  
I walked in without being invited. "If you kicked _me_ out of _your_ house, why are you asking for a drink now?"  
"Because you drank my booze," I told him, sitting down on his couch and looking around. "And now I'm going to drink yours."  
He sighed and went off to the kitchen. I saw a large case over in the corner of the room; I went over and opened it up. Taking the instrument out of the case, I started to play a simple diddy. "You play the cello?" Monroe asked when he returned, two beers in hand.  
"No," I said sarcastically. "I'm just a musical savant. I picked up this instrument for the first time and can play Bach. It's no big deal." I played some real music.  
"Shut up," he said, taking a drink and rolling his eyes.  
I took the time to admire the instrument. It was well-shaped and nicely tuned. I loved the color of it as well. "This is a good cello," I stated.  
"Thanks," he said. I put the instrument away and took the other beer from Monroe.  
"So, have you always been a big fan of fairy tales?" I asked, looking around the room and see multiple books on fairy tales.  
He chuckled as he took another sip of beer. "I've always had a soft spot for 'Little Red Riding Hood,'" he said, and I couldn't tell if he was being sarcastic or not.  
"I've never read the original Grimm fairy tales; I always preferred the Disney versions," I explained. "I was probably too old to watch them, but I always loved as Disney princesses."  
"Yeah, Disney has a habit of watering down some pretty gruesome tales," he said. "You should give the originals a shot. You might enjoy them."  
"Yeah, maybe I will," I said, willing to try. "Could I borrow your book? I really hate going to the library. I'll give it back to you when I'm done. It shouldn't take me long either; I have a lot of free time. Ewan always has his buddies over and I'm stuck by myself."  
"Is that your nurse boyfriend?" he asked with a chuckle.  
"Yeah, you have a problem with that?"  
He held up his hands to signify an unwillingness to fight. "No problem at all. Did you guys meet in med-school?"  
"No, you moron. We met at a bar like normal people do. He came up to me, grabbed my ass, called a beautiful, and bought me a drink. It was practically look at first sight. Three steps to obtaining a woman's heart: sexual assault, flattery, and alcohol." We both laughed at this.  
"I'll keep that in mind." We sat in silence for a few moments. It was less awkward than I'd anticipated. I figured that being alone with this odd, sweater-wearing man would be weird but it wasn't. I felt absolutely comfortable just sitting next to him, drinking his booze.  
All of a sudden, my phone rang. "Hello?" I said, picking it up quickly.  
"We need you," Wu said. "Got a dead woman that you need to take a look at." He gave me the address.  
"Sure thing, Wu. Be right there," I responded and hung up. I gulped down the last of my beer and stood up. "Sorry, dude. Death's a-calling. I need to go to work."  
Monroe stood up and took the empty bottle from me. "Alright," he said simply and he walked over to his bookshelf. He pulled a large book off of the shelf and handed it to me. "A complete set of Grimm fairy tales."  
"Thanks, Monroe," I said, taking the book from him. "You know, you're alright."  
"And you bestow too-kind compliments," he said sarcastically.  
I stuck my tongue out. "Good-bye, Monroe," I said as I turned to the door.  
"Hey, Beyla. You're alright, too," he said with a nod.  
"Thanks," I said with a smirk. "I'll be back some time to drop this off when I'm done."  
"Bye," he said and I walked out the door.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's note:**

**I should have mentioned this on the other two, but Ch1 is during episode 2, Ch2 during ep 3, and this during ep 4.**

* * *

I laughed, sitting at the bar with Ezhno. "You're incorrigible!"

"She was so fine, Beyls. Oh my God," my brother said, closing his eyes in reminiscence. We were hanging out at the Blue Moon Bar; Ewan was watching sports with his friends. "Blonde hair, blue eyes, and the biggest-"  
"Personality? Smile? _Ego?_" I suggested, knowing that this conversation was going downhill fast.  
"All of those, actually," he said with a chortle. "Also tits."  
"Oh stop it!" I scolded, slapping his arm. I rolled my eyes and looked around the bar. "_Shit_."  
"What happened?" he asked, attempting to follow my gaze.  
"Why is _he_ here?" I grumbled, more to myself than Ezhno.  
"Who?" he repeated in a whiny voice, annoyingly leaning into me. "That dweeb in that fag-sweater?"  
I laughed at my brother's classless but accurate description. "Yeah. His name's Monroe. He was a suspect in a child kidnapping. No, he didn't do it. Nick somehow bonded with him and then I kind of did too. It was weird."  
We watched as he tried to pick up a chick at the bar. She shot him down immediately and we laughed. "Go talk to him," Ezhno suggested.  
"_What?_ Why?" I said, turning quickly to him in surprise.  
He laughed. "Woah, Beyls. How long have you been in love with this nerd?"  
"Eww! Shut up!" I said, slapping him.  
"Does Ewan know?" he asked with another chortle.  
"There's nothing _to_ know," I replied adamantly. I took an awkward swig of my drink.  
"Oh, hello, beautiful," Ezhno said, spying an attractive woman on the other end of the bar. "Go talk to him. I'll call you if I need a wingman."  
I sighed. "Call me when you need me to pick you up in the morning. Make sure I'm not at work."  
"Yes, ma'am," he said and left to stalk his prey.  
I shook my head and walked over to Monroe. "Monroe Monroe," I said, moving in next to him. "If you keep following me, I'm going to have to call up some of my cop friends for a restraining order."  
"What?" he said, looking at me in surprise. "_Your cop friend_ is the one who made me come here!"  
"For a date? You and Nick coming out for a night at the club? Gonna do some grinding?"  
"Eww," Monroe said, making a face. "What are you doing here? Grinding with _Ewan_?"  
I laughed. "No. I'm supposed to be my brother's wingman." I pointed to him. Ezhno was leaning in and the girl was giggling at whatever he was saying.  
"Are you guys twins?" he asked.  
I laughed again. "Mom and Dad walways say we should have been. No, he's older. He doesn't act it, though. People always say we're alike when they see us together. I guess we must move the same way or something."  
"Wow," he said in admiration. "Man's got game."  
I sighed. "Yeah. I usually end up going home alone when I go out with him. I'm waiting for the chick that sticks." He looked up and saw us looking over. He waved to me goofily and I shook my head. But my smile gave me away and Ezhno continued on his merry way. "Oh yeah!" I announced, remembering. "I have your book in my car!"  
"Were you planning on driving it to me? Tonight seems like a weird night to do it."  
"No. I took it to work, you moron," I said, rolling my eyes. "There's some sick shit in that book. Those Grimms are screwed up."  
"Yes, they are," he said with a mysterious chuckle.  
"So," I started, "why did Nick call you out here? Where is he?"  
"I was doing some undercover work," he explained, a little too excited.  
"For what? Capra?" Monroe shrugged. "Small dude? Really ugly? Why would any woman want to be_near_ this man?"  
"That's the guy," Monroe said with a monosyllabic laugh.  
"Why didn't he do it? Or Hank?" I asked, unsure why this sweater-wearing "dweeb" was Nick's first choice.  
"He said that the guy already knew that he was a cop and Hank was investigating the B&B."  
"I guess that makes sense," I said, nodding. I felt my phone vibrating in my pocket. When I took it out, I saw that Ewan had texted me.  
WHERE R U? IN THE MOOD ;)  
I sighed. I responded by telling him I was wingmanning for my brother. "Oh, boyfriends," I said, shaking my head and putting the phone away.  
"Not fiancé?" Monroe asked, confused.  
"Why would you-" I started but I stopped when I realized what he meant. "This?" I said, holding up the ring that I'd put on my left hand. "It's actually my class ring. I wear it so I don't have to put up with losers hitting on me when I go out," I explained, laughing.  
Monroe laughed with me, looking at the ring. It clearly said my high school's name on it. "That's devious."  
"It's practical," I countered. I got another text.  
PLZ COME HOOOOOOOME!  
I sighed and waved Ezhno down. He happily came trotting over. "Oh my God she's so fine," he said, leaning it to me. I could tell he'd had another drink or two.  
"Ewan beckons me home. Can you take care of yourself?" I asked.  
"Sure. I'm definitely going home with her," he said, nodding triumphantly.  
"Go," I said, pushing him toward his prey. I turned to Monroe. "I'll see you around, Monroe."  
"I think I'll leave now, too. No one's coming home with me tonight, anyway," he admitted.  
I laughed. "That's for sure," I said and I was sure that Monroe had the urge to stick his tongue out at me. I laughed more. "Oh, lighten up. Come on. If I get one more text I'm going to flip." And we headed out of the bar.


	4. Chapter 4

**Just so you know, this is a P.O.V. switch. Meet Evea Meraz! Find out who she is next chapter! Anyway, this is during Danse Macabre.**

* * *

The door swung shut behind me, and the guard waved. I waved back; he knew me pretty well by now. I made my way to the place where the detectives worked. I didn't want to walk all the way down to the morgue if I didn't have to. Plus, the dead body smell gave me the creeps. I looked for Detective Burkhardt; he, Detective Griffen, and Sergeant Wu were the only officers that I knew well. As I turned into the room, I heard a crash, saw Roddy Geiger storm out, and spotted Detective Burkhardt.

"He seemed happy to be let go," Detective Griffen said to him.

"Oh, yeah. I had to stop him from yodeling," he replied sarcastically. "Hey, Evea." He waved to me, and I walked over.

"How are you?" Detective Griffen asked conversationally.

"I'm doing okay, Detective. How are you?" I responded politely.

"I'm doing okay, too," he replied. "Looking for Beyla?"

"Yep," I affirmed. "She down in the morgue?"

"We're going down to see her now," he said. "We'll tell her you're here."

"Thanks," I said with a smile, happy that I wouldn't have to descend into the catacombs of the precinct. "Oh, and was Roddy here because of Dr. Lawson?"

"What do you know about that?" Detective Burkhardt asked.

"Umm, he got eaten by rats? He was my teacher, too, and news travels fast."

"What can you tell us about Roddy? We talked to some other students, but we're pretty sure that we didn't get the whole story. Maybe you can help us out."

"Oh, uhh, okay," I agreed. "He's at Von Hamelin on scholarship. He's an insanely talented violinist. His dad's an exterminator, so people tend not to talk to him. Did you talk to Carter, Marvin, Trey, and Sarah?"

"How did you know?" Detective Griffen asked.

"Well, if you weren't going to hear the whole story, they'd be the ones to hide it from you. Carter has a huge beef with Roddy, which is totally unfair because Roddy is _way_ more talented than he is. He only got the spot because Roddy got suspended. _And_ he only got Sarah because Mrs. Jessup is a stuck-up psycho," I said, candidly revealing more than I'd planned to. "Roddy wouldn't kill Dr. Lawson, though. I still don't believe that he'd hurt Carter, even though he totally would have deserved it."

"That was very revealing," Detective Burkhardt said. "Thanks, Evea. We'll tell Beyla you're here."

"No problem, Detectives. Can you tell her I'll be waiting by the car?"

"Sure thing," Detective Griffen said. "Take care."

"You, too," I replied as I turned to exit the precinct. As much as I disbelieved it, I could see why they had Roddy as a suspect. I'd always liked Roddy; he was at Von Hamelin for the music. I wished I'd gotten to know him better; maybe he wouldn't have been so unhappy. He used to smile, back when Sarah would talk to him. Now he was angry and upset almost all the time. _Man_ could he play, though. What a prodigy! I was insanely jealous of his ability. He was like a surgeon with the violin; every note precise and true. What I wouldn't give to play like that.

I sat down on the back of Beyla's car and waited. It didn't take long for her to come out, and I was happy to see her. "Hey, Beyls!" I said, running over to hug her.

"Evy! Babe!" she said, hugging me back. "Come on; I'm starving!"

I laughed, and we got in the car. "So, what's new?" I asked, turning on the radio, classical music of course.

"Nothing much. Ewan is away on business this week, so it's just you and me tonight. I was thinking about having an intense game of Parcheesi later? You game for that?" she said, grinning widely.

"Hell yes!" I said, already excited. Honestly, I didn't have anything against Ewan; he was an okay guy. He was definitely hot, with bedroom eyes that will make anyone lacking a Y chromosome melt, but I always felt awkward staying over when he was there. He always somehow made me feel like a cock-block even though I wasn't trying to be. Beyla and Ewan having sex wouldn't have even bothered me, but I'm sure I would have been able to hear it, and that made them uncomfortable. Well, Beyla anyway. I think Ewan could've dealt with it. "Oh my God, I got a new cello!" I announced excitedly.

"Really?" Beyla said with a gasp. "What does it look like?"

"Ugh, he's so sleek and badass. Completely black," I told her, envisioning my new baby. "I'm thinking about naming him Batman."

Beyla laughed. "I suppose that is cooler than 'Bilbo,'" she replied. She named her cello after the hobbit. I never really understood why.

"Is that Roddy?" I asked as we approached a guy walking on the side of the street. "His house is miles from here; why is he walking?"

"Let's ask," Beyla suggested. She pulled over as I rolled down my window.

"Roddy!" I called, trying to keep up with him. Luckily, no one else was on the road. "Want a ride?"

He looked hesitant, so Beyla called, "It's no trouble! I'd feel bad if you had to walk all the way home. Come on; hop in!"

So Roddy shrugged and got into the car. "Thanks," he said simply. I'd never known Roddy to be verbose.

"For what it's worth, I don't think you did it," I told him, peering over the top of my seat at him.

"For what it's worth, I _know_ you didn't do it," Beyla chimed in. "Forensic, hun. They don't lie. Unless you have a high-class BMW stashed away that no one knows about, you're in the clear."

I smiled with Roddy. "Really?" I asked, and she nodded.

"What about my dad?" he asked.

Beyla sighed unhappily. "Well, he did 'assault a police officer.' He'll have some time to 'cool down' regardless of his innocence with Dr. Lawson," she explained. "Turn here right? Okay. But, yeah, he'll spend a little time in a cell and be released. Is anyone going to be home for you, hun?"

"No," Roddy said, visibly upset. It was a mix of sadness and anger that shone so clearly through his big, blue eyes. Windows to the soul and all that.

"Well, don't worry. Hank is a friend of mine. I'll give him a chat and see if we can work something out, okay? Also, if you need anything, give us a call, alright? Any friend of Evy's is welcome to come to my house and eat my cooking," she said with a laugh.

That's my Beyla. She doesn't even know Roddy, and she's willing to call in favors for him. Say what you want about her biting wit or her rough exterior, inside Beyla was a wonderful woman. "Thanks, Beyls," I said with a smile.

"Hey, no problem! Really, don't mention it," she said, waving a dismissive hand and turning onto Roddy's street. "Well, here you are."

"Thanks," he said simply, but the word sounded strong. He was really grateful to Beyla, and we could both tell.

"Remember, if you need anything, give us a call, okay?" she said. He nodded with a smile.

"I'll see you soon, right? Your suspension is almost over, isn't it?" I asked before he had a chance to shut the door.

"I'll be back next week," he said.

"I'll see you next week, then," I said, smiling.

"See you," he replied and shut the car door.

Beyla waited until he was inside to say, "What a shame, huh?"

I looked at her, waiting for her to specify what about Roddy was a shame. "What in particular?"

"How clueless you both are," she said with a devious smirk.

"What?" I said as she pulled out of his driveway. "What are you even talking about?"

"Hmm, nothing," she said with indignant sass. "So, did Nick and Hank ask you any questions when you came in?"

"Yeah," I said, nodding. "Just about Roddy and Dr. Lawson."

"I'll get it!" I called upstairs, hopping up from my seat at the kitchen counter to answer the door. I wondered who would be knocking on Beyla's door; it was pretty late. When I opened it up, a very tall man looked down at me. "Hello."

"Uhh, hi. Is Beyla here?" he asked, looking around inside a little.

"Monroe!" I heard Beyla yell from upstairs. She ran down to us. "I didn't think you'd actually come! It's late!"

"You said I could pick up my book," he said, seemingly oblivious to that fact. "I was already out, so I figured I'd just stop by."

I coughed expectantly, painfully aware that I had not been introduced. "Oh!" Beyla exclaimed, a little embarrassed. "This is Evea. Ev, this is Monroe. He is not a kidnapper."

"Umm," I said with a short chuckle. "Hello, Monroe. I'm glad to know that you're not a kidnapper."

"'_He's climbing in your windows, snatching your people up_,'" Beyla sang with a chuckle. "Want a beer?"

Monroe chuckled now, too. "You take that very seriously." He came inside.

I sighed. "Yes, she does," I said, sighing. "So, how did you guys meet?" Monroe and I sat in the living room as Beyla went to get some beers and a soda.

"Well," Monroe said awkwardly, trying to find the right way to explain circumstanced that I assumed to be unorthodox.

Beyla was not nearly as tactful. "We had him as a suspect for a kidnapping. As I said before, he didn't do it. Forensics don't lie, brutha. Then I thought he was trying to kill Nick's aunt as payback, but he doing that either. Two cell phone misplacements and an awkward clubbing encounter later and here we are," she said with a chuckle.

"That's practically a fairy-tale," I said, shaking my head at that impossible turn of events.

"Speaking of!" Beyla said. She was acting uncharacteristically scatterbrained tonight. Was it because of this "Monroe" character? She ran off to grab a book off the bookcase. "Here you are."

Monroe took the book: _Grimm Fairy-tales._ Odd, but okay. "Want to play Parcheesi with us?" I asked him, knowing that Beyla wouldn't.

"Sure!" he replied. "I love a good game of Parcheesi."


	5. Chapter 5

**Just a little check in. This is in ep 6, obviously. What a good episode, right? Love it. This is a pretty short chapter, but I'm going to do an Evea chapter for the next chapter. Also, if you check out my deviantart account (same username) you can find some pictures of my little Grimmlins, soon to include all of them, including the as-of-yet un-introduced friends of Evea.**

**Also, before I start, thank you, random reader, for taking the time to review! I might not have finished this chapter in a timely manner had you not given me the encouragement to do so. I love you. And if the readers want more chapters, encourage me with reviews! :D**

**On with the show!**

* * *

"Hey, Nick, can I-" I stopped mid-sentence, seeing our vic hugging Monroe and lifting him off of the ground. "Umm, okay. I completely just forgot everything that I came up here to do. Wait, have I been sniffing embalming fluids? _What_ is going on out here?"

Hap put Monroe down, and Monroe looked helplessly at me. "Old friend," he said with a shrug.

"This your new girlfriend?" Hap said, giving me a once-over.

I laughed loudly, and Monroe looked embarrassed. "No!" he replied, a little too forcefully. I laughed more.

"Oh, I've been meaning to tell you that Evea has been losing sleep plotting her revenge."

"What?" Monroe said, totally confused.

I chuckled. "She won't rest until she's beaten you at Parcheesi. She's been drawing up strategies for your rematch." He relaxed and laughed.

"I'm up for round two," he said, and we both smiled.

"Are you sure she's not your girlfriend?" Hap asked.

Monroe groaned as Nick walked over. "What's up, Beyla?" he asked.

"I did a little write-up for you and Hank to look over, and I have a proposition for you when you get some time. Call me later? I'm heading out," I said, handing him a large envelope with my findings from combing through the autopsy report of the other Lasser victim: burnt to a crisp with no indications of foul play.

"Alright," he said, taking the envelope. "See you later, Beyla."

"See ya," I replied. "Bye, Hank. See you, Monroe." I "girlfriend" winked at him, he "Are you fucking kidding me?" glared at me. I was still laughing when I opened my car door.

I struggled to achieve the lighting I needed to finish painting my picture of the woods. I wasn't getting what I wanted but didn't care because my phone interrupted before I could get too disgruntled. It was Monroe, two days after I'd seen him at the station and one after his friend Hap was shot. "Hello, Monroe," I said, sitting on the counter and staring at my work in progress. "What can I do you for?"

He sighed. "I was just looking for some kind of distraction," he said, sounding upset.

"Have no fear; I shall be over in a few minutes with beer and embarrassing stories," I said, already at the fridge.

"Thanks," he replied.

It didn't take me long to get there; we didn't live far away. The door was unlocked when I arrived, so I walked right in. "Hey," I said.

"Hey," he replied.

I cracked open two beers and handed him one. "Are you okay?" I asked.

"No," he replied honestly, "but I will be."

I put a friendly, consoling hand on his shoulder. "I know that I can't possibly know what you're going through, but I lost my best friend twelve years ago this October."

"What happened?" he asked.

"Breast cancer," I said. "Really aggressive, really sudden. None of us saw it coming. She died less than a year after they found it. Sahkyo Meraz, my best friend. Evea's her daughter, you know." He looked surprised to hear that. "Yep, Evea Meraz. Her dad, Neka, works a lot, so I watch her when he's away. Didn't you wonder who she was?"

"Kind of," he admitted. "I figured she was a niece or something."

"Nope, she's the daughter of my best friend. Probably my new best friend, if I'm being honest. I've been trying to walk that line between authority figure and best friend. She's a good kid, though, so I don't have to worry about her."

"She seems like a good kid," he agreed.

"Want to hear some gossip?" I asked, getting excited about sharing Evea's private life with Monroe. He shrugged. "I think she likes this boy. I met him that same day that you came over. His name's Roddy Geiger. He's a violinist, and she's totally in love. I can just see it when she looks at him. Oh, so cute!"

Monroe laughed at my excitement. "How do you know she likes him?"

I sighed, exasperated. "I can just tell! I saw the way she looked at him! We dropped him off from the precinct, actually. You almost felons turn out to be stand-up guys!" I laughed.

"You think I'm a stand-up guy?" he said, puffing out his chest.

I laughed. "Stand-up enough to invite you over to my house. My brother, Ezhno, who you... saw, is a chef. He's trying to make good vegetarian dishes and needs some people to test them out. I told him I'd host a 'tasting party' at my house so that he can get some feedback. Want to come?"

He smiled. "I do happen to be vegetarian. Sure. When is it?"

"Next Thursday," I said, happy that one invite had RSVPed. "I'm inviting Nick, Juliette, Evea and Neka, too. It'll be great."

"I'll finally get to meet Ewan," he said with a chuckle.

"Yes you will!" I realized, a little worried. I was sure that Monroe had some preconceived notions about Ewan. I wanted Ewan to be the man that I knew he could be. Looking back, I realized that his texts had been less than exemplar and his prodding less than eloquent. What can you do?

"Thanks for coming over, Beyla," Monroe said, interrupting my probably awkward pause. "You're a stand-up girl," he added with a chuckle.

I laughed, taking a long swig of my beer. "Don't mention it, Monroe."


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's note: Sorry for the wait! Here's some more Evea/Roddy, kind of. The introduction of Evea's friends! Hooray!**

**Also, anonymous reviewer, yes. I post these on deviantart too. They aren't in order there, though.**

* * *

"Hey, girlfriend!" Sarah Jane called from the picnic table on the front lawn. "How's my baby girl?"

"Ugh," I groaned, half awake. "So sleepy."

"Me too," Mary-Ann agreed, nodding. "I was up all night reading _Mansfield Park_ for the millionth time. I got _maybe_ two hours of sleep."

"I slept soundly," Lydia announced happily. We all made faces at her.

"You're a star, Lyd," Sarah Jane said sarcastically. Lydia beamed at her.

"Oh, look. Roddy Geiger's back in school," Mary-Ann said, pointing to him. He was walking across the parking lot.

_Why don't I say hello?_ I thought, putting my backpack down by my friends and walking toward him.

"Hey, Evy? Where are you going?" Sarah Jane asked, watching my go.

I ignored her, trying to catch Roddy's eye. He looked over and I waved, smiling invitingly. "Hey, Roddy," I said as he walked toward me. I could hear the surprised whispers and less-than-whispers from the peanut gallery.

"Hey," he replied, smiling back at me.

"Is your dad back home?" I asked.

"Yeah. He got home a couple days ago. Thanks, by the way."

"Oh, I'm so glad. Is it weird being back?"

"Not as weird as I thought, actually," he said, giving an look appraising around.

I laughed, and the bell rang. "Well, I'll see you around, okay?"

"See you," he agreed, waving as we parted ways.

My friends were staring with wide eyes and open mouths. "Evea? Do you have something you want to talk to us about?" Lydia asked, putting a hand on my shoulder as I grabbed my backpack.

I feigned a thoughtful moment of introspection. "No," I said, shaking my head. "I don't think so."

"You little shit," Sarah Jane said, shaking her head at me as she followed me into the building.

"You do know that he was a suspect in the investigation of Dr. Lawson, right?" Mary-Ann asked with concern.

I looked at her incredulously. "Beyla works in the morgue; she examined his body. Yeah, I know."

"Hey, Mary-Ann, he didn't do it," Lydia added. "It was Carter and his friends; you know that."

"Still," Sarah Jane said, her eyes slitted as we all took our seats in Psychology. "He's a suspicious character."

"Very suspicious," Mary-Ann agreed, nodding.

"It does look bad," Lydia conceded.

"_Guys_!" I finally yelled, throwing up my hands. "He's a human being! Stop talking about him like he's not. He's not a bad guy, either. _I'm_ going to keep talking to him, whether you guys like it or not. Hell, whether this _school_ likes it or not."

The class was quiet and staring at my outburst. I swallowed hard but kept my expression resolute. "Wow," Mary-Ann said, her large, blue eyes staring at me in what I thought was admiration.

"You really like him," Sarah Jane said in amazement.

I felt my face get hot, remembering what Beyla had said. "What? I-" I was cut off when the bell rang, and our teacher began class.


End file.
